The Ditch in the Desert

Carved over the course of tens-of-millions of years and in it's depths exposing rock which hasn't seen the light of day since the planet itself was still young, I stand here atop a mile-deep chasm in the Earth's crust. Gazing into the depths of the Grand Canyon, deep into a violent, primordial past long since forgotten at the surface, I halfheartedly listen as an enthusiastic park ranger gives the same speech he undoubtedly gives at least a half-dozen times in a day, five days out of a week, and throughout much of the year. The speaker is skilled-- knowledgeable and entertaining. He is the very archetype of a  park ranger: thirty-something, tall, bronze and chiseled. I can tell he loves his job, and he should. Yet, as I crane my neck for a glimpse of the snaking waterway I know lies somewhere far below; my attention wains. New adventures await.

In the midst of such and array of breathtaking and awe-inspiring vistas, one can find themselves  overcome with a feeling of immense smallness; insignificance. Yet here, in this labyrinth of ancient beauty, you may also discover a sense of belonging; as if by some strange coincidence you've suddenly stumbled into the middle of some grand happening-- and instantaneously become a part of it.


During the Great Depression, Ansel Adams visited the Grand Canyon on at least four separate occasions, capturing some truly magnificent and memorable images. Today, in the era of digital photography, and in such a stunning place, anybody can take a good photo. I enjoy black and white because of it's inherent severity-- deep shadows, stark contrasts and a feeling of great depth. A great black and white photograph can even evoke a sense of nostalgia, as if bringing back memories of having once visited a place, a place you'd forgotten about long ago. In the absence of color, you find yourself searching for a different sort of detail, picking up on subtleties-- or tricks in the light-- that you otherwise might have missed completely. If you spend enough time studying a black and white image, or trying to create one, you'll have found new respect for the art itself, and for those that create it.

If you've never visited Grand Canyon National Park, just like most of the parks, it's absolutely worth the journey. Neither Fort Knox nor the Lincoln Memorial, or even Fenway Park, can call themselves our greatest national treasures; it's these last few wild places that hold that distinction. As our grandparents, and their's before them, carved a path of progress and destruction across the virgin wilds of North America, only the most beautiful, the most exotic of wilderness was saved; and just barely. Go to Yosemite, go to Yellowstone, go to the Grand Canyon, and take your kids! Those trips, those long periods in the car, or in a tent, or on a trail-- together as a family-- these are the experiences that shape an individual, and the memories that truly last a lifetime.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is a video short I put together using an assortment of random clips from our trip in April. If you'd like to see more of my videos, please feel free to visit my YouTube page using the link below, enjoy:

http://www.youtube.com/user/JasonTurnerWa

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------